Cade Avery is running for a position on his
local county council. He’s extremely good at what he does and is a valuable asset
to his community. The trouble is, he upsets people, says the wrong things, and
rides rough-shod over other people’s plans and ideas. His assistant, Mary,
eager to improve Cade’s public image, hires him a campaign manager.

Quentin Rayworth is thrilled to be working
with such a formidable public figure. It’ll be a challenge, but he’s confident
he can help Cade to win the election, and knows that the achievement will look
impressive on his CV.

It’s soon clear that the two men are set to
be an excellent team. That is, until Cade’s werewolf makes its intentions
known—in Quentin, it has found its mate, and it will not rest until he has
claimed him. But can Cade—and his wolf—win over the campaign manager?

Excerpt:

“You’ve done what?” Cade Avery yelled,
fixing his long-time friend and colleague, Mary Summers, with a glare. He
slammed his hands down on his desk, making a bunch of pens jump and rattle, and
causing water to splash over the side of his glass. “Why the hell would you do
such a thing?”

Mary, by now used to Cade’s temper and
frequent outbursts, didn’t flinch. Standing firm on the other side of his desk,
she calmly stated, “You heard me, Cade. I’ve appointed you a campaign manager.
And as for the why, I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“Not to me,” he grumbled, snatching a
handful of tissues from the box in his top drawer and swiping irritably at the
liquid he’d spilled. “Seems like an unnecessary expense.”

With a heavy sigh, Mary replied, “Do you
want to win this bloody election or not?”

“Yes, of course I do. What sort of a stupid
question is that?”

“Well then, you need a campaign manager.
The rest of the team and I already have enough on our plates. We can’t handle
that side of things, too. Not to mention the fact that you really need someone
with … expertise … in that department. Someone who can boost your public image,
make you more likeable … you know, so people will actually vote for you.”

Screwing up the wad of soggy tissue and
dumping it in the wastebasket beside him, Cade snapped his gaze to Mary. She
stood, the ever-present iPad clutched against her chest, looking as determined
and immovable as a five-feet-one, slim thirty-five-year-old was ever going to
get.

He sat back in his chair and folded his
arms. “What’s wrong with my public image?”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, her body tensing,
Mary’s cool demeanor actually looked on the verge of cracking. Taking a deep
breath and releasing it, she looked back at him. “Give me strength, Cade. Are
you fucking serious?”

She may have used the deep breath and
probably a considerable amount of willpower to dampen down her physical
reaction to his question, but her actual words gave her true state of mind
away. As a rule, the word “bloody” was as bad as it got for Mary. To have
enticed a “fucking” out of her, and within the same conversation, no less,
meant she was in real danger of losing her temper with him. And despite her
diminutive frame and usually chilled-out personality—especially in comparison
with his huge frame and fiery personality—when she did lose it, she was utterly
terrifying. Possibly the fact that she rarely got angry was what made it so
potent when she did. Mary’s ire could turn even the thickest-skinned person
into a blubbering wreck.

“Mary,” he cooed, backtracking quickly,
“come on, sit down. Why do you always insist on standing up in here?”

“Because, unless we’re having a meeting, I
don’t generally need to stay long. I normally impart my information, you give
your feedback, and we get on with our day.” She shifted restlessly and narrowed
her eyes. “But today, it seems, you’re having a bit of a brain fart. Do I
really need to spell it out for you?”

Raising his eyebrows at her increasing
irritation, and wondering if there was something going on in her private life
that was making her so touchy, he nodded. “Yes, I really think you do.”

A few seconds of silence passed, in which
Mary again seemed to be getting a grip on her irritation. She finally said,
“All right. But don’t forget; you asked for it.”

*****

Author
Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author
of erotic romance novels Stately
Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic
Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love
Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves and Hiding in Plain Sight. Including
novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She
owns Erotica For All, and is one
eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out
more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk,
or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for
automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to
her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

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